The water was splattering,

Made a thud when hit the metallic roof:

Amma was huddling with a cup of coffee,

Nestled in her favourite pashmina shawl,

And I wondered dreamily

On her lap.

There were days,

When appa would admire

Amma's tea,

Her saree,

Her hands,

Everything.

And then there were days,

Dreadful for the three of us.

When appa would no longer admire,

Rather curse those hands

Which made his lunch,

And kept his house warm.

He came home drunk,

And slapped amma for absolutely no reason

For a moment, the world stopped.

The rain was pouring violently on the roof

The windows banging in rage,

The creeked walls poured water,

The lane was flooded,

And water seeped in:

Appa's fury was overcome

With a more stronger force-

The rain didn't stop.